I own nothing.
The Two Princes of Hogwarts
-Chapter Eight:
"What are our options?" Jeneane demanded as she stared at the Daily Prophet's lawyer.
"Somebody has to go under the buss," Daniel stated. "How could you approve putting that letter under the letters to the editor? It was about a professor torturing a student at Hogwarts! You had to know that someone was going to notice and then they would tell as many people as possible and it was going to spread like fire all the more for you hiding it. There is no defending it."
"I didn't know some fucking professor had carved words into a student's hand!" Jeneane insisted. "The Minister told me it was nothing and asked me to put it on the last page. I didn't even bother reading it."
"Do you have that in writing?" Daniel demanded eagerly.
"No, the Minister came to my office in person," Jeneane replied.
"Well, there goes that," Daniel grumbled. "We can't just accuse the Minister without proof, especially not now. Jesus. What a mess."
"You have to come up with something," Jeneane insisted. Daniel was about to speak when the door to her office burst open.
"Oh shit," Daniel whispered.
"Good morning," Amos Diggory stated as he tipped his bowler and gave them a pleasant smile.
"Good morning, he says," Lysander Steele repeated, a manic grin stretching his lips, "I love your sense of humor."
Jeneane had no idea which one frightened her more.
"Oh, don't look at us like that," Amos tutted as he made his way into the office, taking his bowler off and landing it on the coat rack behind himself with an ease that was more magic than magic before he settled himself into one of the chairs. Lie just kept grinning as he stalked over to loom over the two of them. "We're actually the best option you have right now. Afterall, we intend for you to still be breathing when we're done. Other parties are wishing for a different outcome."
"I didn't know anything about Umbridge torturing a student," Jeneane said quickly.
"I should hope not," Amos stated, looking affronted at the idea.
"The Minister asked me to put it on the last page," Jeneane added. "I just thought his little pet at Hogwarts had embarrassed herself or something."
"Well, let's put that on the back burner for now," Amos interrupted her rambling. "We are actually here representing Mister Harry Potter."
"My reporters have just been posting what they've been told through official sources," Jeneane said.
"What are your demands? Do you want our sources?" Daniel asked.
"Oh, we know who your sources are," Amos stated pleasantly. "I wouldn't worry about them. They're next."
"No demands," Lie said, finally breaking his silence and making Jeneane and Daniel jump. "Demands are negotiable. We're not here to negotiate. We're here to tell you how this is going to go down. You will do everything we say, or we will leave. We'll come back in a week to see if you're still alive and on the off chance you are, we can go over this again. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Jeneane whispered, shrinking back from the man's manic gaze.
"Wonderful," Amos cheered with a clap of his hands. "Oh, do relax Danny."
"No," Daniel refused plainly.
"You always were smarter than I gave you credit for Danny," Lie commented. "When you should happen to be job hunting soon, send me an owl. You'll love working for the side of righteousness."
"You're righteous?" Daniel asked.
"Well, I'm not," Lie admitted, "but I do have Amos on my side and he counts for ten." Amos just smiled serenely as he pulled out several reams of paper from his briefcase and placed them on the desk. Jeneane peeled off the top sheet and her face went white as she began to read.
"Remember!" Amos announced. "With us you actually get to live."
"Can I at least say that it was in no part my fault and I was misled?" Jeneane begged.
"If you do exactly what we say, we'll even go public saying that," Amos said happily. "It is an inexcusable lapse in judgement, but we have no reason to believe you did it maliciously."
"That's the best offer we're going to get," Daniel sighed in defeat.
(:ii:)
Harry and Hermione made it to the charms classroom just after the bell, but Filius waved them in and they quickly took their seats next to Ron. "Get things taken care of?" the redhead hissed.
"Mister Diggory and Lie are going after the Prophet," Harry whispered back.
"Oh," Ron said a tad too loudly. "Oh, shit."
"Mister Weasley," Filius stated with a warning tone.
"Sorry Professor, just heard some interesting news," Ron stated.
"Care to share with the. . ." Filius trailed off. "You know what? Never mind."
"The way," the class intoned.
"Yes. Yes, I suppose it is," Filius admitted. The diminutive man let out a sigh and began lecturing them about the importance of their upcoming OWLs before setting them to reviewing Summoning Charms.
"Bit different from Umbridge, huh?" Ron grunted as he focused on summoning a book from the other side of the class.
"What?" Harry asked.
"He was having a moment after he got his detention," Hermione stated. "Remember? He spent the rest of the class giggling and staring at Umbridge."
"Did not," Harry insisted.
"Do you remember the rest of that class?" Ron prodded. Harry paused and cast his memory back.
"Oh, God. I'm becoming Hermione," he whispered in horror. Filius sighed and finally decided that they were causing too much of a commotion to ignore. Especially when Harry's distraction led him to take a text book to the face, much to the distraction and amusement of the rest of the class.
"Perhaps you should discuss your problem with Professor Umbridge," the tiny professor stated, "instead of speaking about her in my class."
"We did," a new voice stated. Everyone turned to stare at the irritated Longbottom. "She was. . .firm in her belief that theoretical knowledge would give us enough of a grasp on the practical to pass the OWLs."
"She what now?" Filius asked blankly.
"She won't teach us any magic," Lavender stated. "All we do is sit and read the textbook."
"Really?" Harry demanded, somewhat disturbed that he had been too out of it to remember that.
"Really," Ron replied. "Hermione's looking into the tests and we're going to figure something out to make sure we're ready." There was a long-suffering groan and they glanced back to see Neville with his face in his hands. He took a long shuddering breath and dropped his hands to stare at them.
"If I ask to be a part of that, will you keep it normal?"
"Totally normal!" Harry announced quickly. "It will be the normalist. . ." he trailed off as he realized that he didn't actually know what he was talking about.
"It will be a very normal study group," Hermione stated.
"Yes! Study group!"
"Harry won't be in charge," Ron added.
"Not even a little!" Harry agreed.
"Uh, could I join too?" Lavender asked.
"The more there are, the more there are dilute the madness," Neville grumbled.
"Everybody is welcome," Hermione stated. Soon enough, they were all chatting about going about setting up their new study group. At the front of the class Filius raised his wand and silenced them with an almighty crack, one that had Harry, Ron and Hermione diving under their table for cover.
"If we could focus on the here and now," the diminutive man squeaked. He spared Hermione an annoyed glance. "See me at dinner. I will try to have drawn up all the spells you should go over."
"Thank you, Professor."
Transfiguration carried on much the same way though with the introduction of the Vanishing Spells. Hermione managed it on her third try and Harry got a lecture on the difference of Vanishing versus Banishing after he had accidentally sent a tiny gastropod beelining for Minerva's head at Mach speed.
That led them squarely into lunch where their midday meal was rather rudely interrupted.
(:ii:)
"But where does the snail go?" Harry whispered.
"It's vanished," Hermione repeated in annoyance. They had been going round and round since they had left class and moved into the Great Hall for lunch.
"But vanished to where? Is it the same snail when it comes back? Is it some other snail that someone vanished and couldn't get back? What did the snail see? What did it experience?"
"Harry, snails are half a step above a zucchini. I don't think they experience much," Ron pointed out.
"They enter a state of non-being," Hermione stated.
"So, it's dead," Harry stated.
"It ceases to exist," Hermione corrected.
"So, it's deader than dead," Harry stated. "What about its soul?" They all stared at him for a moment.
"It's a snail, Harry," Ron stated. Harry just stared at him blankly, even as Luna patted his head and gave him a sad nod of understanding.
"There you are!"
"Sirius?" Harry asked, jostled back to alertness by the appearance of his god father. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to check up on you," Sirius stated.
"For what?" Harry asked in confusion. The older man fixed him with an irritated stare. "What?"
"The torture!" Sirius snapped.
"Oh! Wait, who said that was. . ."
"Who else would it be?" Sirius yelled, making the Great Hall go quiet.
"He has a point," Ron agreed in the silence. "This is Hogwarts and things tend to happen here."
"Usually to me," Harry grunted. "It wasn't torture." He glared at everyone around until they began awkwardly speaking again.
"What do you call cutting open a student's hand?" Sirius demanded.
"Discipline," Harry stated. "Sit down Sirius."
"I will not. . ."
"Sit." Sirius sat, then frowned as he realized what he had done. Before he could say anything, Arkin interrupted with a squeak.
"Sirius Black!"
"Have they updated the history books yet?" Harry asked.
"The newest version was the first one to mention you," Hermione stated.
"Ah," Harry said. He frowned. "That seems important."
"He who controls history controls the present and future," Hermione agreed. "I'll look into it. Might not be a bad idea to remind everyone how the war actually ended."
"Focus," Sirius ordered.
"Focus. Right. I can do that," Harry replied. "This is Arkin. He's with us now. . .kind of."
"Kind of?" Sirius repeated.
"Junior probationary member," Ron supplied, drawing a laugh from most of them, "pending his first life threatening situation."
"This is Sirius Black," Harry said to Arkin. "He's my godfather."
"But, didn't he. . ."
"No," Harry interrupted. "He was tricked into taking the fall. He was found innocent last year."
"Oh."
"You're distracting me," Sirius said suddenly.
"I think you're distracting yourself," Harry countered.
"Show me your hand," the older man ordered. Harry shrugged and held up his hand. "It didn't scar?"
"Nope." Harry put his disillusioned hand back down, only for another person to crash to a halt.
"Hand," Cedric ordered. Harry's hand jumped up on its own. The Head Boy's eye twitched.
"Finite Incantatem," the older student snapped, not even bothering to raise his wand. Sirius gasped as the spell ended.
"Okay, so, it might have scarred, a little," Harry admitted. The back of his hand was dominated with twisted patterns of pale pink and white lines where Poppy had cut his flesh to ease where the scar tissue had overly tightened skin. Despite that, the words "I must not tell lies" were still plainly visible. Sirius shot to his feet and Harry lunged across the table to snag his robes.
"Let me go!"
"How many years did you spend in prison for running off the last time?" Harry demanded. Sirius scowled, but his struggles weakened. "I just got you back. I will break your arms and legs. Do not test me." Sirius scowled and sat down. They were too distracted to notice as Cedric turned on his heel and marched to the professor's table. He spoke animatedly with Albus for a moment before storming back to the table in an even worse mood.
"I'm not allowed to duel Umbridge."
"Wait, that's an option?" Harry demanded. "I can go kill Umbridge right now?"
"Duel!" Hermione announced, glaring at the suddenly silent students around them. "He said duel her, not kill her. That would be crazy and if I hear anybody say anything different, I will have to have a talk with them personally."
"About what?" Seamus asked. "I didn't hear anything."
"The Way," Gryffindor table stated, a sentiment that rolled through the Great Hall like a low wave.
"A student challenging a professor to a duel hasn't been legal in a century," Hermione stated.
"I'm not a student," Cedric said. "I am The Head Boy." The title just felt capitalized as the youngest Diggory said it.
"So, what you're saying is, if I become the Head Boy, I can challenge the Defense teacher to a duel," Harry stated. He received an array of looks. "What?"
"You. . .aren't ever going to be Head Boy mate," Ron pointed out. "Let's be honest."
"It's not my fault this is Hogwarts and things tend to happen to me!" Harry insisted. "Things happened to Cedric last year and he's the Head Boy."
"Cedric is also Cedric Diggory," Luna pointed out. "Of course, he's the Head Boy, he's awesome. You're awesome too, but in a scary way. More Ivan the Terrible than Alexander the Great."
"I didn't know you studied classics," Hermione commented.
"I'm a Ravenclaw and I study," Luna replied.
"Study what?" Hermione pressed.
"Yes," the small blonde stated.
"And Alexander the Great tortured a lot of people," Hermione pointed out.
"It's all about perceptions," Luna stated. "Alexander the Great never murdered his own son."
"Everybody shut up," Sirius ordered suddenly. "So, what's your plan then?"
"Trust us," Ron replied. "We know what we're doing." His voice suddenly became exasperated and he slumped a little. "We've been here before."
"Trust you," Sirius repeated, "and leave you here with the woman who tortured you?"
"Not torture," Harry said automatically.
"Of course," Hermione stated. "Don't worry about Umbridge. She's right where we want her."
"And where is that?" Sirius demanded.
"Where I can get to her," Harry said simply.
"Nope!" Neville announced as he snatched up his plate and beelined for the nearest table, planting himself between a startled looking Draco and Gregory. The rest of the house wasn't too far behind as they abandoned the table with the determined survival instincts of rats fleeing a sinking ship. . .that was also on fire and probably about to explode.
"Probably should've used the ward," Ron commented, observing the migration.
"We weren't talking about anything bad this time," Harry insisted.
"Doesn't have to be too bad to scare everyone off," Hermione pointed out.
"And what bad things would you be talking about?" a new voice asked, causing them all to flinch. Harry turned slowly and saw the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement towering over him.
"Hi Amelia!" Luna chirped. That, as always, seemed to put the woman off her stride.
"Hi," she said awkwardly. "Potter, your hand." Harry started to raise his right hand.
"I really wouldn't mess with her right now," Kingsley said. Harry quickly held up his left hand. Th woman's scowl deepened, though it was Kingsley who seized his wrist. Instead of the scar on the back of Harry's hand, the tall man seemed much more interested in the ink carved into his knuckles. "Umbridge spilled blood on these marks?"
"Oh," Harry replied in surprise, "you've got an interesting family history, don't you Shack?"
"My family fought to conquer this spit of land in the name of the Empire," Kingsley stated. "Answer the question."
"She did," Harry admitted. Kingsley took a deep breath and blew it out slowly before glancing at his boss.
"I think we're done here." Amelia stared at him for a long moment, before nodding. She turned back to the students.
"Stay out of trouble."
"Can you keep trouble away from us?" Hermione asked. Amelia let out a long-suffering sigh.
"Don't do anything stupid," she corrected.
"We only ever do what we need to survive," Harry replied. Amelia nodded and stalked off with Kingsley in tow.
"So," Sirius began. "How worried should I be? I mean, I have a list of non-extradition countries ready and I may have contacted a few other countries about asylum. The goblins couldn't be bothered to care about anything so long as the gold is gold and plentiful at that."
"We'll let you know," Hermione replied.
(:ii:)
"Explain Shack," Amelia ordered as she led her subordinate through the halls of Hogwarts towards the section that port keys could be used in.
"My family came here as legionnaires," Kingsley stated. "We stood strong at Hadrian's Wall and remained behind to cover the retreat after the collapse. I am familiar with the Old Ways of this land. The tattoos on Potter's hand. . .they're the Old Way. Umbridge spilled his blood on them. She's made a challenge to a warrior of the Old Gods that she probably doesn't know exists."
"Old Gods?" Amelia pressed. "You mean the old magic of the land?
"If it makes you more comfortable to think about it that way," Kingsley replied. They paused their conversation as they both touched the port key back to the ministry.
"What do you mean by challenge?" Amelia added as she began stalking down the hall.
"Potter somehow got himself Chosen by some very scary, very old Beings. By spilling his blood, the currency of the soul, on those marks, she has challenged that position," Kingsley explained. "There's only one option now. One of them doesn't walk away."
"That's insane Shack," Amelia pointed out, crashing to a halt. "He can't go after her because of some old religion."
"Potter and Umbridge don't have a say in it," Kingsley said blankly. "So, Potter's hand."
"That's all I needed to see," Amelia replied as she began walking again. Kingsley followed her to the Minister's door. "Shack?"
"It's been too long since I got to do this," Kingsley admitted. He put one hand on the latch and the other in the center of the door. In one move he twisted and shoved. The door burst open and crashed into the wall, casting the room into silence.
"What?" Cornelius squealed.
"Good afternoon, Minister," Amelia announced as she strutted into the Minister's office and cut a swath through the lackeys gathered around the man's desk. Kinglsey fought valiantly not to smile as he stormed along a step behind and a step to the left. It wasn't often that he didn't feel like the biggest man in the room, but Amelia was doing a fantastic job of towering over him. "I have just investigated the claims against Umbridge."
"I'm sure Dolores had the best interest of the students. . ."
"The scar is quite horrible," Amelia interrupted. "I'm sure you can agree that a person who caused such an injury cannot be allowed to instruct children."
"Of course," Cornelius whimpered. "She will be replaced as soon as I have a candidate."
"Excellent," Amelia stated. "I will have a list of recommendations on your desk by the end of the day."
"What?" the Minister managed.
"Have a good afternoon," Amelia stated. She turned on her heel and Kingsley followed her out. "What aurors would make a good Professor?"
"I want to say Tonks. She's personable, friendly and did excellent on her defense NEWT, but she lacks the experience," Kingsley stated. "Also, I don't want her to end up going against Potter."
"I think she's also a little over-awed at Dumbledore as well," Amelia stated, choosing to ignore the crack about the usual fate of the Defense professor.
"Well, that changes the criteria a bit," Kingsley admitted.
"What about Scrimgeour?" Amelia pressed.
"Trying to get rid of the guy trying to weasel himself into your job?" Kingsley ventured. That at least got a snort out of his boss. "Experience, knowledge and all the personality of a beater's bat wrapped in sandpaper." Kingsley pondered for a long moment. "Dawlish. He's on office duty after the last time he got hexed so it wouldn't even take away from our manpower. Also, for all the times he's been hexed, he has yet to be seriously wounded."
"Dawlish," Amelia repeated. "That's the short list?"
"That's the full list," Kingsley stated. "Everyone else is either too inexperienced, a poor teacher or "over-awed at Dumbledore" as you stated. Well, that is, unless you want one of my men."
"I guess I should add, "over-awed at Potter" to my list," Amelia stated.
"My men are not "over-awed at Potter" thank you," Kingsley replied. "They're just disturbingly familiar with him. However, they are loyal to me. Sal's shock is evidence enough that they aren't leaking information."
"Fair enough," Amelia admitted. "Have Dawlish's name scribbled on a scrap of paper and presented to the Minister. Then stand over him until he signs it."
"Sounds like fun."
-End
(:ii:)
Uncle's drunken rambles. Yup. Knew this was coming. My updates had been just too consistent. Sorry for the miss, but the last month has not been great for writing. Long story short, rare for me I know, my dad fell again and broke his hip again. This time he needed surgery and a replacement.
Like I said, it's been a rough few weeks.
Due to that, there has been no new progress on AO3 other than the account. The name is Cynical. Jack_Cynical. And I will get to work on it.
Cool news. You may have seen Ta Shrivastava in the comments for this story. Well, they have a blog and they asked me for an interview a while ago. It's been posted in the new year and you can find it at muse of eagle . word press . com. You know, without the spaces. So, if you've missed my long form rambling or are just curious, check it out and leave them a line. Interaction is the encouragement of content creators and motivates them. Not like my last chapter which had the lowest review count I've had in years. Hint, hint, nudge, nudge. Don't blame me if I make a mistake because you didn't leave a review telling me about it.
Also, intentional or not, they picked a F18 Hornet for the article's picture. I have refueled Hornets and also the Hornet in the picture is from a Marine air wing. Don't know if that's intentional, but it is cool.
Speaking of rambling! We should finally be getting a third warehouse guy at my job. Our last warehouse worker was a living, breathing Hanlon's razor. He was constantly in our way. I thought he was incompetent. My partner thought he was malicious.
He decided from day one that he wanted to be as fast as us so he could kick back and relax. The problem was, he never actually got good first and he was always in such a rush that he never got good despite working there for over a year. If you're wondering whether his rushing ever caused messes or broke things, yes. Yes, it did. He then promptly lived up to being twenty years older than us by hiding it and denying everything he did wrong.
We actually had his friend apply a few months ago. Thankfully he did get the job because our ex-coworker's name is now synonymous with getting in someone's way. That would have sucked to explain.
Also, funnily enough, he never actually figured out the job. As far as he was concerned, whatever someone else was doing must be easier because the someone doing it got done first. It wasn't because me and my partner are better, it's because our jobs are easier.
He then demanded to switch jobs just in time for our schedule to shift from schools to charities and land himself with the heavier loads.
So, Uncle advice. Moving quickly comes with experience. Rushing comes with injuries and damages.
Oop, unloaded too much. DISTRACTION OMAKE PART DUEX!
"Albus!" Albus winched as Minerva stormed into his office dragging a blood splattered Harry Potter. "Dolores Umbridge is dead." The Head Master slumped in his chair.
"It's not even October!" he protested weakly. "Couldn't you have let me have a few more months, Harry?"
"I didn't do it!" the last Potter insisted. "She tripped and fell."
"Tripped and fell," Albus repeated as he pulled out his bottle of Beef Eater. "Was she shaving after walking into a doorknob as well?"
"No!" Harry insisted before looking down at himself. "Oh. No, really, she tripped and fell. She was mocking me and insulted my mother before turning and arrogantly strutting off without looking where she was going." Albus remained silent as he took a large swig from the bottle and stared at the young man. "Well, she fell down one of the moving staircases and managed to get caught between the end of the staircase and the terrace. You know, unstoppable force, immovable object, squishy person between." The young man made a popping sound with his mouth and flicked his fingers as if to mimic something being splattered everywhere. "I'm honestly surprised it's never happened before."
"There were over sixty witnesses," Minerva admitted. "Miss Rathbone has had to open a clinic in the hospital wing for the traumatized."
"It wasn't that bad," Harry grumbled. Minerva glared at him and he just sighed in annoyance and scratched his head, only to frown and pull something that looked like a xiphoid process out from behind his ear. "So, I'm sure you're both familiar with this, but blood gets really gummy after about half an hour and I would really like to be in the bath before that happens."
"Go," Albus grumbled. The young man left and Minerva collapsed on the other side of Albus's desk. He messily splashed gin into a goblet and pushed it towards her with the bottle. "We have an entire school year left." He took another long drink.
"Okay, forgive the suggestion, but you have to have blackmail on someone, cause I don't think the Ministry is going to give us another voluntold victim after this," Minerva stated. Albus leaned back in his seat. Who could he force into the Defense position? He frowned as sipped his bottle again.
"Do you think we could get Gellert freed on some kind of work release/rehab bullshit?" he wondered.
"Mister Potter is not your personal executioner that you can feed your enemies too," Minerva stated.
"An executioner would be much less messy," Albus grumbled. A thought burst into life and his eyes widened.
"Oh," Minerva stated. "No. Albus. Whatever you're thinking. . ." she took a long drink from her goblet, "actually, fuck it. What do you have?"
"We hire Harry," Albus stated.
"Albus!" Minerva began.
"Think Minerva, think!" Albus demanded, violently stabbing his fingers into his temples. "The Defense professor can't kill Harry Potter if Harry Potter is the Defense professor!" The woman stared at him, speechless for a long moment.
"Ah, fuck it. Not like we're going to manage to get anybody else."
-End
(:ii:)
Hehehehe. Would you be mad if I admitted that this was my first thought for this story before it became a little more grounded?